


leave me to dream

by moderndaycain



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: DONT READ THIS IF YOU HAVENT SEEN THE MOVIE, Don't say I didn't warn you, Fix-It, Gen, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Steve Rogers/Tony Stark if you squint, They all need hugs, Things Get Better, Thor (Marvel) Needs a Hug, kind of, oodles of angst, this may or may not be continued
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 12:28:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14520564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moderndaycain/pseuds/moderndaycain
Summary: Thor knows what loss feels like. He's used to it.But his brother always comes back, and that makes it bearable.





	leave me to dream

Over 1,500 years behind him, and Thor can’t remember what it’s like to laugh.

 

It’s not that he doesn’t remember _laughing_. His entire childhood was spent laughing and smiling and running through the courtyards of Asgard. It’s that he can’t remember what it feels like.

 

1,500 years of happiness, and suddenly it’s all turned around in less than a decade. Sometimes Thor thinks that maybe it started when he landed on earth years ago, and he blames the Midgardians for everything that’s happened since. But he’s grown up, and he knows that he shouldn’t. But he still thinks back, sometimes, looking for the source of his all his problems.

 

Perhaps it was the creation of the Infinity Stones - they took so much from him, but would he still know that loss even if they hadn’t existed? In their mindless strive for power over reality, the Dark Elves killed his mother. Years ago, the Space Stone had planted itself in his brother’s mind, and it didn’t let go until the end. In Thanos’ possession, the Infinity Stones had taken half of the universe, making Thor the last known Asgardian.

 

If it wasn’t the Infinity Stones that led him to knowing the feeling of loss more than anything else, it was his family. Years ago, when Thor and Loki were young and Frigga would take them on walks, pointing out the tiny details of their world while Odin strode silently beside them, he would have thought that family was always such a peaceful thing. But then a frost giant gripped his little brother’s arm, and in some twisted riddle it was his lack of injury that ripped them apart. A year ago Thor might have described his family as _problematic_ , because maybe that’s what it was, but when Odin said goodbye to his sons and Hela rose from the mist he decided that _dysfunctional_ was a better term. He didn’t use it anymore, though, because for him there wasn’t any family left.

 

Without anyone else to blame, not really, Thor directed his hate towards Thanos. Even if he couldn’t remember joy, he certainly remembered driving his axe into that wretched monster’s chest, thinking _For Frigga, for Odin, for Heimdall, for Loki, for Asgard_ . He replayed the scene over and over again in his head, cutting it off as the axe-blade pierced through golden armor so that he didn’t have to hear the _snap_ of Thanos’ fingers and feel ashes in the wind. But like a leaking pipe that never fixes, it would still drip through. Drip, drip, drip, drip.

 

 _Snap_.

 

-

 

He’s not glad, because he can’t seem to harbor that emotion anymore, but he is certainly relieved that he isn’t alone on this broken planet. His friends, his Avengers, are still here - most of them. The others mourn for people he doesn’t know, but hasn't everyone? Unlike the other _heroes_ , he can’t talk about what he’s lost - he knows they wouldn’t understand, and there’s just too much. Even though Bruce was with him when the last of everything he loved slipped through his hands, Thor finds that he can relate to Steve Rogers more sometimes. The Captain’s story is very different from his, but he finds that they are both familiar with the feeling of the years catching up to them and being unable to do anything about it. Since Thor’s last visit to Midgard, when animated pieces of metal had been their biggest concern, Steve has seemed as though he was drowning. The events of the last few years had been explained to him by Natasha, and Thor saw a man who had dug himself a hole and filled it with water whenever he looked at Steve. Captain America (or _Nomad_ , as he was now called) slept with a gun at his side - it belonged to his friend Bucky, and even though Thor had never met him properly, he’d seen Steve’s face when the first ashes floated into the air.

 

Somehow, they get by. Wakanda is a strange place, Thor believes. It’s very different from Asgard. The bifrost and the sea it crossed are nothing like the hidden barriers and plains surrounding the city, towers of gold couldn’t be compared to the chrome spires outside the windows. Standing in the throne room that once housed the Black Panther, Thor thinks of everything he’s missed, and of what he does miss. Frigga would prefer the Asgardian architecture, if she were alive. Loki too, but he wouldn’t be there to comment on it - he’d be exploring, prowling like a predatory cat, standing out and fitting in all the same. But he isn’t here, and Thor hates how his mind is torn between _It’s another illusion, he’s only playing_ and _He’s really gone this time, and he will not be coming back_.

 

A nervous cough behind him catches his attention. He turns to the right, something he finds strange even though he lost his eye only a few days ago. Bruce Banner is standing near the door, his arms crossed over his chest, making himself look small and passive. So different from the creature that had landed blows to Thanos that day on the ship, before he’d been the recipient of Heimdall’s final act of magic.

 

“Hi,” Banner said, smiling crookedly. “Steve’s with damage control, and Nat and Rhodey are talking business with the Dora Milaje, so… I thought I’d see what’s happening up here.”

 

Thor turns back to the window as Banner approaches his side. “Not enough to entertain, I’m afraid,” he says.

 

“Right.” Banner fidgets where he stands. He was in the same position as Thor - unable to sympathize with the others, but for different reasons. “Hey, you haven’t really… done much, since the battle.”

 

“Are they in need of assistance?” Thor asks. Wakanda needs to be repaired, and he’s ready to help if he's required.

 

“I don’t think so but… look, I’m worried. I haven’t seen anyone in years and neither have you, but your entire _planet_ was destroyed and now you’re stuck here. And after everything else, I know _I_ wouldn’t be okay, so... are you?”

 

He hesitates. “I don’t think so, no,” Thor admits. Before he arrived on earth for the first time he would never have revealed his pain to another, but now he’s here again and everything’s just as broken as he is.

 

”That’s what I thought,” Banner says with a sad sigh. “You’re in a pretty deep hole here.”

 

“I suppose so.” And he really is. His eye is strange and his temple still hurts where Thanos had dug his finger into it before Loki caved and gave him the tesseract. “I no longer feel like the God of Thunder. There’s no more Asgardians left to stand by - now it feels as if I’m the king of the dead. Which I would be, now.”

 

Bruce looks up at him with big dark eyes and frowns. “I don’t think you were ever a god to begin with,” he says, and Thor shifts his gaze to meet his. “If you were, you wouldn’t need to spend your time with us.”

 

Thor doesn’t reply. They stand in silence and watch the world emerge again from the ashes of more than half its legacy.

 

-

 

After a few more days he doesn’t feel the pain anymore. He’s pushing it down, and he knows he shouldn’t, but it doesn’t hurt so much when he does. The team discusses what happened and what to do next - Thor’s quiet, but that isn’t unusual. He had always left councils to Rogers and Stark, because they loved to argue and talk. It had once been amusing. Back on Asgard (Asgard before the destruction of the bifrost, before Thor had learned that he couldn’t control everything) he would always take charge, and the Warriors Three would follow him without question. Even Loki, who had always stood at his side when he needed him to. Now that Asgard was gone and Thor was the king of No One, he thought it best to help when he could but leave the decision-making to the others. Which was really only Rogers and Romanoff. Barton was still alive, as far as they’d heard, but he wouldn’t be joining them for a while yet. He had a family, and Thor understood. They had no way of knowing Stark’s whereabouts or whether or not he was even _alive_ , which distressed Rogers more than the soldier cared to admit. The little captain Rocket never joined them, and was rarely seen outside of the Wakandan princess’ lab (Her name was Shuri, and Thor decided that she would be an adequate ruler even without her older brother. He could help her, if she needed it.) trying to contact the other Guardians. It had been over a week, and no success.

 

Exchanges between team members were short and solemn. Romanoff had approached him one day, silent and unreadable as usual. Like Thor, she missed the team, and he could tell she still carried sadness from their pathetic civil war - she hadn’t really chosen a side, and was more sensible than some of the others (Rogers and Stark), so she knew how much it had cost them. She stopped and stood at his side, looking out over the empty battle plain.

 

“You made quite the entrance,” she said to him. They were outside the labs, watching over the city. “And you’ve changed a lot. Seemingly for the better. I wish I could say the same for the rest of us.”

 

“A lot’s happened since we met last,” Thor said. “My father is dead, making me the rightful king of Asgard. But there’s not an Asgard to rule.”

 

Natasha nodded, her eyes hard and tired. She’d seen more hardships than most of them, and rarely showed it, but Thor found it comforting to see that she was just as human as the rest of them. “Who did you lose?” He asked.

 

She takes a deep breath, her shoulders shifting back. “That girl, Wanda - you wouldn’t have met her - she saved my life. She sacrificed everything for this, and it didn’t change anything,” she explained. “But it’s Clint I’m worried about. Her brother died to save him, and he feels like it’s his fault. But I guess we’re all feeling a bit like that.”

 

Thor nodded slowly. He stared down at the grass at his feet - a small snake slithered lazily between the pebbles.

 

“Have you spoken with Rogers? He’s worried about Tony and he has lost friends as well. Soon there won’t be any wreckage for him to clean,” Thor said pointedly.

 

“Yeah. He’s coping by doing whatever he can to find Tony. The past two years he hasn’t talked about him much, but we knew that if there was any chance he was in mortal danger he’d be there in the blink of an eye. Now Tony actually _is_ , and he can’t do anything about it,” Natasha continued. Thor wondered if she had a point to make, but didn’t dismiss her presence.

 

“Aye. Wherever Stark is, I hope he is alive and that Stephen Strange is as well. The Guardians, they helped me get to Nidavellir, so I wish for their well-being too,” said Thor. “Banner said that the Spiderling was taken with them.”

 

“Yeah - his name’s Peter,” Natasha confirmed. “They’ll be alright.”

 

The stood in a tense silence for a few minutes, watching the wind move the pale grass and the bushes. Without the blood and death staining the ground, the scene was peaceful. Wakanda was still in ruins around the edges, but closer to the city it looked better, now that they’d washed away the ashes.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Natasha asked.

 

Thor exhaled, closing his eyes. He didn’t like being so serious, but the years were catching up to him, and he could feel the weight of 1,500 years on his shoulders.

 

“I’ve lost my eye, my planet, my people, my hammer… now my brother as well, but I’ve known what that feels like. As much as I’d like to hope so, I don’t believe talking will change anything.” Thor looked up at the sky, letting the wind ruffle his hair and remembered Loki teasing him for it in the few hours before Thanos’ ship loomed out of the darkness in front of them.

 

“Maybe it won’t,” Natasha said. “Don’t bottle it up, alright?”

 

She gave him a pat on the shoulder, and intimate gesture by her standards, and turned back towards the city.

 

-

 

Thor looked up and saw blue sky.

 

Familiar blue sky, dotted with pale stars that could be seen if one allowed their eyes to adjust.

 

 _Asgard_.

 

Thor smiled and spun on his heels, taking in the view. He was in the courtyard before the palace, where the Einherjar had fallen to Hela less than three months ago. His eye was no longer uncomfortable, and even better, it was real and in his head. But the lack of... _feeling_ was what surprised him the most - no pain, no pulse of electricity in his veins, no distant hum of a trusty magic weapon. It was eerie, he thought, but... it was home.

 

Shoes padded against the cobbles behind him, and Thor turned to see the golden face of Frigga, smiling with the knowledge of the universe in her old eyes. He approached her, beaming, and bowed his head in respect. She smiled back at him and lifted her hand, gesturing for him to rise. She wore her typical drapes of gold and white, overlapping embroideries glinting in the warm sunlight. Thor felt her love, even if he knew this was a dream.

 

It was the same dream he’d been having for weeks now. He knew the other Avengers were having similar nightmares, false hopes of lost loved ones in their arms. He knew it would be painful to think about in the morning, but he didn’t want this moment of comfort to end.

 

Of course, he already knew what would happen next. Frigga, saying nothing and still smiling up at him, stepped back, and Thor could see the blood spreading across her chest from a wound to her back. The sword was still there, now, and Thor shut his eyes - he’d had this dream enough times to know that he couldn’t do anything to stop her body from slumping to the ground with a thud at his feet.

 

But this time there wasn’t a sickening crack of bone against stone, and Thor opened his eyes hesitantly. He wasn’t in the courtyard anymore - with a rush of fear and bewilderment he looked around to find that he was in the crowded, hazy hall he’d seen in his visions of destruction three years earlier. Asgardians danced and drank around him, and he could hear terrible noises in the background, snakes slithering and knives scraping against metal. In front of him stood Heimdall, but not the Heimdall he was familiar with. The solemn gatekeeper was gone, replaced by a white-eyed ghost in a dream. Only this time he had only one white eye - his left eye was still piercing gold. Thor frowned and tensed his shoulders, preparing himself for whatever message he’d receive from his grieving conscience. But Heimdall stayed quiet, and he stared straight at Thor as his face contorted into a painful grimace and blood dripped from his heart to the floor.

 

As the scene dissolved once more, Thor heard Heimdall speak, but the fact that it was a memory made his heart freeze in his chest. “ _...Let the dark magic flow through me, one last time…_

 

" _... And so my burden becomes yours_."

 

And then there was grass at his feet, and he could no longer see out of his right eye. Thor reached up, brushing his fingers over the side of his face and pulling them away to see them stained in red. He had gashes in his arms and legs as well - he suddenly remembered the feeling of Hela’s daggers as they had drawn his blood, and once again knew where he was. A windy cliff face in Norway, at the feet of the Allfather.

 

“ _My son_ ,” Odin said. He was standing before him in full armor, the Ravens perched on his shoulders. “ _Listen_.”

 

“Father,” Thor said, his voice broken and strained. “They’re all dead, Asgard, it’s - it’s gone. All of it.”

 

“ _Asgard is not a place; it’s a people_ ,” Odin stated. “ _Listen_.”

 

“There are no people left,” Thor protested. “What do I have left? There’s nothing for me here, Thanos, he won, but fate still keeps me here-”

 

“ _My son_ ,” the Allfather repeated, and it echoed for a moment like a shout in a metal room. “ _Listen_.”

 

Thor stepped forward, but there was a roar of fire and suddenly he couldn’t move. Sharp and jagged irons pressed against his chest, and his mouth was covered by a strong muzzle that not even he could escape. Everything went black, and Thor could only hear - and it was worse. Fire crackled nearby, and metal clanked on metal as the ship fell apart around them. And then, a promise:

 

“ _You… will never be… a god._ ”

 

Thor heard the sickening crunch of bone, _that was his brother it’s his brother_ , and a dull thump as the body was cast aside onto the floor like a broken toy. He felt the irons slide from his shoulders, and suddenly the world was on fire and he could see everything around him. Finding his footing, Thor scrambled forward, over the jagged scraps and towards the body, _his brother’s body it’s his brother his little brother_ , and propped himself up above Loki, staring at green eyes that were once alive. They're still open - he died staring down his murderer. 

 

And Thor’s sobbing, and it hurts, it hurts so much, but he shouldn’t feel it - not unless it were real. _Allfather, do as you wish, banish me to Hel as you did my sister, but cease this torment, please_ . He wraps his fingers around dark leather and lays his head on his brother’s chest, hoping for a heartbeat, but there isn’t one. When Loki had died on the plains of Svartalfheim, he’d chosen to die for Thor, but he’d come back - maybe he would again. _No. He won’t. He’s gone._

 

“ _This is your fault_ ,” says a painfully familiar voice behind him, and Thor whips his head around to see his brother standing in the flames of the ruined ship. It isn’t the Loki he knows - it’s the shell filled with hatred and tragedy he’d fought on top of Stark Tower years ago, down to the sloping horns and treacherous scepter.

 

“ _You could have saved us_ ,” Not-Loki yells, and then he’s burning like a witch on a pyre. The last thing Thor sees is green eyes dripping away like wax to reveal pools of burning red.

 

He doesn’t wake up, but he wishes he had. Instead he’s in a small room, probably on a ship, and there’s patchwork walls lined in pipes and fuses. They’re covered in sigils he doesn’t recognize, written in ash. And in front of him is his brother.

 

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing he says, and his voice breaks. Thor slumped his shoulders but stayed where he was, knowing that reaching out to his dream creations wouldn’t ease his conscience. But Loki does, and Thor is startled when he actually feels the familiar coldness radiating off his brother. Before he can say anything, Loki speaks.

 

“Stay where you are. Wait a few days, and I’ll be there,” he says. He stares at Thor for a moment longer, lifting his hand from where it was resting in his shoulder and nodding certainly. Thor furrows his eyebrows and starts to ask for an explanation, but everything’s black, and he doesn’t feel cold anymore.

 

 

He wakes up in a cold sweat, and it’s a good many hours before he sleeps again.

  


-

 

“ _You have access to a_ satellite?”

 

Shuri scoffs. “Of course I do. You can thank me later.”

 

“ _Wait, wait, put me on speaker_.”

 

“Clint, I understand if you don’t want in again,” Steve says.

 

“ _If I’m being totally honest with you, I really don’t but it sounds like you’re going to need someone with real common sense and intellect for this_.”

 

“Clint.”

 

“ _Nat, hey, Laura probably says hi. Kids are doing great, thanks everyone for asking, aside from the end of the world_.”

 

“Half the world,” Shuri says quietly.

 

Steve speaks up. “Clint, look, something’s coming back down and we’re the last line of defense. You don’t have to come, but we could use you.”

 

There’s a pause, and then a tired sigh from the phone in Shuri’s hand.

 

“ _Fine, fine. Alien spaceship crashing onto earth in a few hours, couldn’t be more psyched_.”

 

-

 

Even Stormbreaker brought back painful memories.

 

Thor missed a lot of little things - his hair, his eye, his cape - but he really missed his hammer. Mjollnir had been his pride, joy, and favorite toy, and like everything else he’d ever loved, he’d watched it be destroyed in front of him. Stormbreaker was powerful, probably more powerful than the Hammer of the Gods, with Thor’s new control over his abilities - but the rough handle was long and gnarled and nothing like the short smooth grip he was used to. It was better than the swords he’d fought with during Ragnarok, though.

 

And it gave him the power of the Bifrost. It had been useful, of course, but summoning it made Thor feel guilty again. Heimdall was their gatekeeper and had been for countless years, and now he was dead because he had tried to help. And Thor had been given his strength, even though he didn't deserve it. 

 

But still, the ax did it’s job. Surviving the sheer force of the Infinity Stones’ power, it had managed to bury itself in Thanos’ chest even if it hadn’t stopped him, which is more than can be said for any other weapon used against the fiend. And it channeled the energy he took from the skies in bolts of lightning more powerful than any he’d used before.

 

Flying was trickier now. As he shot over the Wakandan plains and dense trees he felt unbalanced, but he could get used to it. He’d probably have to anyway. Below him, Steve was flying a jet towards the crash site with Natasha, Bruce, and Clint (who had arrived the day before upon hearing the news) while Rhodey flew beneath him with his silver suit glinting in the sun.

 

In the distance there was a pillar of rising smoke - beneath it was a pile of metal, clashing shades of gold, maroon, and dark purples. It was lodged in the dirt, a shallow trail of ruin behind in where it had scraped across the earth in its descent. The grasses around it were smoking, but so far nothing was  _too_ on fire.

 

“ _Let’s land, see what’s inside of it_ ,” Steve’s voice said over the comms. “ _Don’t attack unless they’re hostile_.”

 

Thor could hear the strain in his teammate’s voice. He understood that the rest of the team wasn’t eager to invite beings from other worlds onto their planet, after Loki’s attack on New York and now Thanos. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t even blame them.

 

He landed in a circle of dust and electricity before the vessel, Rhodes hovering to his left with his missiles ready. Rogers had exited the jet, which had just grounded, followed by Natasha and Barton, whose fingers twitched with anticipation. (Bruce waited inside - he still couldn't summon the Hulk and didn't want to get caught in the crossfire.) Thor could hear the ship powering down as it flickered and sparked. There was a set of doors on the top - he assumed it had nosedived through the atmosphere and landed bottom-up on the ground. After a few moments of silence where the Avengers tensed and watched the ship carefully, Clint spoke up.

 

“If there’s someone dead in there, I’m not gonna be the one to-”

 

 _Bang_. A dent appeared in the door, and everyone froze. They exchanged worried glances before directing their attention back to the ship, which shuddered again with another blow from the inside. Two more, and the door was blown off, clanging loudly against the metal as it tumbled to the ground. A figure crawled out of the ship, the joints on her arm snapping back into place. They couldn’t see much due to the sun’s morning glare, but Thor could see that her skin was blue and she was donned in sleek metal plates on her arms and head. She began to step down from the wreckage, and was followed by two other figures emerging from within the ship.

 

As they stepped towards them, their faces clearer now that the sun was not silhouetting them against the horizon, Thor noticed Steve’s reaction first. It was hard not to, even for someone who didn’t know him. His jaw dropped and he lowered his shield, shock and relief written across his face like the luminescent signs in Midgardian cities.

 

“Tony.”

 

It _was_ Tony Stark behind the blue woman. His eyes were older and his beard had more gray touches than last Thor saw him, but it certainly was the Man of Iron himself. Thor watched his eyes trail over them - from what he’d gathered, Rhodey was the only Avenger Tony had seen in two years, so it must have been a shock to see them all together again - and stop for longer than a moment on Steve.

 

“Cap,” he said simply.

 

“Not… not anymore,” Steve replied. The man stepped forward, standing before his old friend (but it didn’t take a genius to recognize that they’d been more than that). “Are you alright?”

 

Stark opened and closed his mouth, like he was biting back a quick and probably snarky response. He finally settled on “We need to talk.”

 

“And we’ll have to make it quick.”

 

In a split second Thor was ready to curse the Norns for invading his waking world as well as his dreaming mind with visions of loss. But no, standing near the wreckage of the ship, perfect posture and authoritative manner, was _Loki_.

 

His brother stared at him with _very much alive_ emerald eyes. Thor was still half convinced that this was some cruel trick his grieving mind was playing on itself, but Barton reached back and pulled an arrow to his bow in a single swift motion.

 

“Thor? Ain’t he supposed to be, you know, _dead_?” Clint asked angrily. He’d never forgiven Loki or himself for the incident with the Mind Stone scepter.

 

Thor didn’t answer him, only stepping forward. “Loki, if this is not an illusion by some cruel means then for Odin’s sake prove it,” he said. Stormbreaker felt too heavy in his hand, and his mechanical eye began to itch again.

 

Loki - or Not Loki, whatever this was - stepped towards him slowly, eyeing the Avengers at his side. His hands were in front of him, a demonstration of peace, but Thor knew from experience that this position only made it easier for him to summon and throw daggers. His eyes settled on his brother and Loki stopped, holding his hands out, palms turned towards the sky. Thor grasped one of them, and upon discovering that it was solid and real, he pulled his brother into a long-overdue (and ironically almost-but-not-quite bone crushing) hug. Loki still hadn’t received any sort of embrace without tensing like a fox in a headlamp in many years, but after a moment he relaxed his shoulders and allowed Thor to hold him there without letting go.

 

Thor stepped back, a hand still on his brother’s shoulder reassuringly, and looked at him. Nothing broken - Loki only looked tired, but Thor imagined he didn’t look much better. Loki’s gaze rested on his restored eye for a moment, and he wondered if the difference was noticeable. He smiled at his brother, for the first time in weeks, and had never been more glad to receive a knowing smirk in return.

 

To their left, Natasha had approached the blue woman and started talking to her. They seemed to have come to an agreement, and the Widow was leading her back to the jet that Rogers and Stark had already boarded. Barton stood by the gangplank, his bow lowered but still knocked with an arrow. Loki stepped past him and strolled slowly up the ramp, eyeing Barton with a glimmer of amusement in his eye. Thor followed, and the ship closed behind them.

 

They hadn't even exchanged words, and Thor knew that he and Loki were both letting out a long sigh of relief - they were back. 

 

-

 

“How did you manage it this time?”

 

Thor was standing across from Loki in one of the palace rooms, probably meant for stationing meetings at one time. There was a table between them, and Thor was propped against it, leaning forward.

 

After his arrival with Stark and the woman called Nebula, Loki had followed Thor through the palace while they exchanged questions. Thor didn't know what to feel about Loki's miraculous return, which was surprising. He'd grieved and waited for what felt like ages, and now that his brother was back where he belonged (at Thor's side, as his equal) he seemed to settle into a sort of rhythm. The same thing had happened after Asgard had been destroyed, when they began to trust each other again. There was so much tragedy, and some things couldn't be fixed, but the bad blood had been mostly scrubbed clean from their relationship.

 

“I’ve had experience avoiding death in the past, as you should know,” his brother started.

 

“I was beginning to believe you’d outlive me,” Thor said. There was no amusement in his voice, though.

 

“Unlikely, but not impossible,” Loki scoffed. “It was another spell - similar to the one I used on Svartalfheim, but much larger. I needed to fool Thanos and his brood of wretches, as well as you. If anything went astray we’d both be dead, and I couldn’t risk that. After your Hulk distracted  Thanos and I so valiantly pushed you out of the way I cast it. With only the Power and Space Stones in his grip, the Mad Titan couldn’t have seen through it. If he'd had the Reality or Soul Stones we'd be ashes.”

 

Thor nodded and blinked up at his brother. “Loki, you can’t keep doing this. Thrice now you’ve let me mourn you and each time you’ve stayed away for months without word,” he said. “Do what you must to survive, but I ask that you… I don’t know, _tell me if you have_ ,” he said. He had a lot of cycling feelings about his brother’s latest “sacrifice” and annoyance was at the forefront of his mind for the time.

 

Loki shifted under the negative attention, a habit he’d taken to in the recent years since negative attention frequently meant the risk of death for him - it was something he only did when he was making an attempt to be honest for once. “And how, exactly, was I to do that? The ship exploded, and I was stranded in the wreckage. _You_ were long gone.”

 

Thor frowned again. “And you still came back. You had the chance to leave forever - it’d probably save your life for a little while longer, honestly - and here you are.”

 

Loki replied with a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. “It didn’t have many choices. The only ship that even came near the remains of ours just so happened to be piloted by Stark and Nebula, and that was still a few days later. They were going to earth, and didn’t kill me immediately, so I decided I’d rather have tolerable - and expendable - allies by my side in case Thanos reappeared. Keeping myself alive took most of my strength, so there wasn't much I could do,” he said. “And I did contact you. It was a few days ago, in your dream world.”

 

“So that really was you?” Thor asked.

 

“Yes,” Loki nodded. “It took a great deal of strength, more than most spells I’ve performed in the past. I did glimpse part of your mind before I established a secure connection - are you really so conflicted over my morality, brother?”

 

Thor thought back to that dream, three nights ago, and how he’d watched his brother die again only to appear in a pillar of fire and blood to add to the guilt he felt for his people already. “You’ve given me more than enough reason to be.”

 

Loki shrugged. “Fair enough. But as you said, I’m here now.”

 

Thor smiled, but there wasn’t much amusement behind it. “The last time you said that we were attacked before we had the chance to adjust to a functional sibling relationship,” he said.

 

“Are you so sure that’s a reasonable thing to expect of me?” Loki asked with a smirk. Thor knew he meant no harm this time, but his words had hidden layers of jealousy and even self-loathing, however buried and thin.

 

“I’d certainly like to,” Thor said, crossing the room to clap Loki hard on the shoulder. As always, his brother was colder than the rest of the room, and he wondered if he was comfortable in the warm climate of Wakanda. (He’d never mentioned it, but after the shock of Loki’s true heritage had died down, Thor had wondered if his brother could be a functioning drink cooler. They hadn’t been together long enough for him to fcompletely test his theory, and Loki had definitely noticed how often Thor asked him to hold his mead glasses after Ragnarok.)

 

“Either way, your friends obviously won’t trust me, no matter how many times you try to persuade them to,” Loki said pointedly. “Not that I blame them, I suppose - but after this is over I’ll need _somewhere_ to stay.”

 

“Like I said, everything will work out fine,” Thor assured him. “I think you should remain here. We’re the last Asgardians. It wouldn’t be very convenient if we were scattered across different sides of the galaxy, would it?”

 

“Need I remind _everyone_ that I’m not actually Asgardian?”

 

Thor looked down at him again, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “Loki, Asgard is a people. My people. Yours too. You spent two years as their leader, don’t tell me you didn’t see that in them.”

 

Loki frowned, but didn’t protest. He faced his brother again before stepping around him, heading towards the door. His cape, which was tattered around the edges but still draped regally from his shoulders, swished around his feet. Thor found it amusing how even though they'd grown up together he and Loki were polar opposites in every way. Even in his conquests Loki had always striven to look as regal and authoritative as possible. Thor guessed that it was because his brother had never been taken seriously by many people in his shadow - Thor had never needed to worry about that sort of thing because, well, he was Thor. But now his brother had more years of experience ruling Asgard, and he'd been good to his people, even if he built monuments to himself and left the rest of the Nine Realms at war. Okay, maybe he wasn't the best ruler, but Thor knew he had plenty of potential. Before he left the room, Loki stopped and turned back to his brother.

 

  “I’m sorry you had to mourn for me again, Thor. I really did feel it, when Thanos snapped my neck. It felt worse than dying, because I was still alive,” he said. “But I never blamed you.”

 

-

 

“Thanos is still out there. He killed half of the people in goddamn universe. We _have_ to find him.”

 

Tony stood in front of the rest of the Avengers (with the new additions of Rocket, Nebula, and Loki) with a set look of controlled anger on his face. Thor knew that look all too well, and he shared Stark’s desire for vengeance.

 

“Tones, how are we even going to _do_ that?” Rhodes asked. He stood next to his friend with a concerned look on his tired face.

 

“I don’t know. But we have to,” Iron Man replied. “Everyone who’s gone, we have to get them back.” His face was sad and wracked with guilt, and Thor recalled Loki’s explanation as to why he and Nebula had been alone when they found him.

 

“We’ve got no idea where the bastard is, how the hell are we supposed to get vengeance?” Rocket asked, stepping forward.

 

“Can’t you just snap your fingers and pop that purple asshat through a black hole or some shit? We know you’ve got magic, why not use it? Is it like a Harry Potter thing where you don’t have enough soul juice left for a horcrux or what?” Clint asked, turning to Loki, who glared back at him.

 

“No,” he scoffed, looking taken aback. “And I’m an illusionist, not a witch.”

 

“You still dress like one,” Thor commented, earning a glare from his brother.

 

"Also, I don't know if anyone's noticed, but we're running a little low on backup right now," Bruce said. He was fidgeting anxiously to Thor's right. 

 

“Alright, so we’ve got nothing. That Strange guy, he’d be super helpful right now,” Rhodey sighed.

 

“He had a friend, another wizard friend,” Tony said. “Guy named Wong. I’ll get him over here as soon as I can, but we’ve gotta move quick.”

 

“Tony’s right,” Rogers agreed. “The sooner we can bring everyone back, the better.”

 

Stark looked over at him and nodded. There was a quiet tension between them ever since they had walked in. Thor noted that there was no hostility between them, but some piece of their relationship still had to snap into place. Stark wouldn’t make eye contact with his former teammate, and Rogers was quiet and reserved whenever he was in the room.

 

“What cards are we playing here, Cap?” Natasha asked.

 

“Nebula,” Steve started. “Do you have any idea where he might be?”

 

“There’s some possibilities,” she said, her dark eyes scanning over the others. Thor almost felt lucky that he was standing next to her and only in her peripheral vision. “None in this galaxy. And your people don’t even have spaceships good enough for intergalactic travel yet.”

 

“Actually, that’s not entirely true,” Shuri piped up, stepping into the room. “Wakanda has been working on prototypes for years, but I don’t know that we can get them through the atmosphere yet. But if I had some help from our… aliens here, I think it would be possible.”

 

“You’ve got actual _spaceships_? Kid, you’re way cooler than your brother,” Tony remarked, nodding at Shuri. She smiled, wincing at the mention of the late Black Panther. Off to the side, Thor could see Steve looking a Tony affectionately.

 

“Getting past your atmosphere wouldn’t be as much of a problem as you’d think,” Loki said. “We’ve got our very own gatekeeper.” He looked at Thor with a proud grin, and soon he was the center of attention in the room.

 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Clint asked.

 

“Space Pirate here zapped me down here with some bright rainbow shit,” Rocket said, Loki’s proposition clicking together in his mind. “Think you can do that again?”

 

“Thor? What’s he talking about?” Steve asked.

 

Thor looked at the floor - his new abilities brought back painful memories. He didn’t think it fair that Heimdall had died only for him to take up his duty as the master of the Bifrost. And he’d only ever had to use it once.

 

“Stormbreaker has given me new abilities, including being able to open paths between the Nine Realms,” Thor said carefully. “I don’t know how far I can go or how much I can carry, though. But it’s worth a try.”

 

"So if you can open up the Bifrost and send a ship or two up there, we can probably make a few trips to get the rest of us in too," Bruce said, nodding. "The hardest part would be finding a place to land it. But I think... I think we've got a chance. A little."

 

Tony smiled. “Good. Now all we need is to gather our players and get ready. We’ve got the advantage here - Thanos doesn’t know we’re coming.”

 

“We can do this,” said Steve. He nodded, and the rest of the Avengers joined in with determined looks on their faces.  

 

“Then by all means...” Loki began with a clever smirk.  

 

“Let’s get started.”

**Author's Note:**

> I sat down and wrote this because of:  
> A) The trainwreck that was Infinity War  
> B) The short supply of fics in which my boy Thor is the POV (we need more)
> 
> But mostly because Marvel fucked over these two undeserving bros and I'm in a permanent state of complete denial
> 
> (Little comment on that dream scene there - that was probably the hardest part for me to write and I changed it around a lot before I finished it. It references a few points in Thor’s past, such as the scene in Age of Ultron, that I felt had a lot of emotion left unsaid. And if this wasn’t implied, when Odin spoke to Thor and told him to listen, that wasn’t only a dream vision. I’d like to think that even after he died Odin watched over his sons and helped them in their darkest times.)


End file.
